


Just because there's lizards and fire, doesn't mean there are dragons

by fireweed15



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Post-War, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 06:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14303157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireweed15/pseuds/fireweed15
Summary: An interlude—a word which here means,the blessed moment in Grillby's life in which things started to look up.





	Just because there's lizards and fire, doesn't mean there are dragons

The War had been over for almost three years, and it had been about that long since an unspoken "Open Season" on any Monsters dumb enough or unfortunate enough to be on this side of the barrier had been declared.

So far, Grillby had counted himself lucky that he'd managed to find a handful of sympathetic Humans here and there to hide him, or at least offer him a place to crash for a night or two. Unfortunately, on Day One Thousand Eighty-Five of his post-War life, luck was not on his side—not with the weight of his few possessions on his back, nor the way those clouds were looking.

When he was properly armored, rain was a slight annoyance; now, it was downright deadly. He shook his head, trying to banish the thought of surviving the War only to die in a thunderstorm from his thoughts. It was late, and of all the four people in this café, there was an employee who had been cleaning up for the evening, and a Human who seemed deeply engrossed in paperwork. He was the only Monster—not the best situation, but it was workable.

"If you're going to get anything, now's the time." The employee's voice cut through his thoughts, all but dragging him back to the present. The rain had already started, if the light pattering on the roof and window were any indication.

He swallowed hard (as much as was possible for him) before convincing himself to approach the counter. "I, ah… I had a question."

The worker looked at him, expression somewhere between wary and tired. "Sure."

"Is there—" He paused, trying to banish some of the crackle of flames from his voice in order to sound more human. "Do you know if there are any… shelters around here?"

Pity replaced the wariness. "Not like what you need, buddy," they said, almost sympathetic.

He could feel his Soul sink a little. "Then… could I—"

The employee shook their head. "I can't let you stay here."

Now his Soul was in his shoes, and he could feel panic setting in—the idea of being turned out in _that_ weather was not a fun one. "There's _nothing_ nearby?" The desperation in his voice made him sound truly pathetic—aside from his flames burning rather low, almost dull orange in color, he could only imagine how wretched he looked.

"Excuse me—" A third voice cut in, and both Grillby's and the employee's gaze drifted from each other to the source of it. It was the other Human, clad in a navy coat and now pulling a few loose dollars from one of its pockets.

"Fantastic as always," he complimented, the words directed at the employee as he tucked the bills into the glass jar by the register. "Thank you. Now if you'll excuse us—"

It was in this moment that Grillby realized the Human had loosely wrapped a hand around his arm, and was gently but firmly tugging him away from the register. Fear set in for a moment, and was quickly joined by indignation and shame. "I'm not looking to be a problem," he mumbled, keeping his eyes down. Most Humans, he'd found, were not open to strong eye contact (especially from a Monster whose eyes could not be readily found).

"I don't doubt it," the Human replied, his hands in his coat pockets. "Sounds like you're in a bit of a jam."

"You could say that, yeah," he mumbled, trying not to wince as thunder rumbled in the distance.

"I have a spare room," the Human offered, lowering his voice as if to spare Grillby's battered dignity.

The offer blindsided him, and for a moment all he could do was gape. Finally, reason broke through—"I don't have any way to pay you for it."

The Human's smile was kind, and it made the ends of his mustache turn up slightly. "We'll figure something out—" He reached over and laid a hand on Grillby's shoulder. "But considering that the café closes in ten minutes and my guess that you and rain don't get on…?"

He had a point there… When Grillby spoke, his voice was heavy with emotion. "I'm very grateful, thank you…"

The smile broadened, and for the first time in almost three years, Grillby felt like things might be looking up. "Excellent!" The Human withdrew his hand, only to extend it once more, this time in a handshake. "Monty Montgomery—pleased to meet you…?"

He took his hand and shook it. "Grillby."

♤♤♤

Never in all his life had Grillby been more thankful to see an umbrella as he was when Monty pressed one into his hands just before they stepped out of the now-closed café. Now, they were in Monty's car, old but well-loved, as the latter drove. It was a very quiet drive, and before Grillby knew it the car had eased to a stop in a sparsely filled garage. "Here we are," Monty announced, turning the key and letting the engine fall silent.

Wordlessly, Grillby opened the passenger door and got out, following a few steps behind Monty as he unlocked the door leading into the house. Upon entering, he noticed two things—one, how the house felt very comfortable, almost welcoming. The other was a noted preference for all things reptilian and amphibian, mostly in the artwork on the walls. Unusual, but not _entirely_ off-putting.

"Now—" Monty shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on a vaguely ophiomorphic hook by the door. "I imagine you're exhausted, but are you hungry?"

Oh gods, the thought of food made his flames perk up instantly. "If you have anything to spare…" he murmured.

"Of course I do!" Monty was already opening cabinets and shuffling the contents about. "What suits your tastes?"

A lot of things would suit him in this moment, admittedly. "Something simple—anything you have." He paused to rub the back of his neck. "I admit, I'm more _tired_ than anything else."

Monty paused, offering him an understanding smile. "I'd offer you tea in that case—"

"If you have bags, those would be wonderful," he said. "Or even loose—I promise you, I'm not a fussy eater at all." He couldn't afford to be.

Monty paused, considering him briefly before nodding in understanding. If his smile was anything to go by, he had the patience of a saint. "I have just the thing." He pulled a partially open bag of trail mix and a pack of Sleepytime tea from the back of the cabinet and poured some of each into two shallow dishes. "Let's get you off to the guest room, shall we?" he offered, passing Grillby both dishes.

Grillby accepted both, nodding in understanding and compliance before following him up a curved staircase. The distinct taste in decor continued throughout the house, and Grillby couldn't help but find himself grateful he wasn't bothered by that sort of thing.

"Here we are—" Monty opened one of the doors just short of the top of the stairs. "I imagine you'll find this to your liking?"

Grillby stepped inside, flipping on the lightswitch and considering the room. The layout was simple—a bed, chest of drawers, a desk and chair in one corner; a window gave him a view of a hedge maze out back. The sight of a clean, comfortable bed was almost overwhelming. "This is perfect," he said sincerely, turning to Monty. "Thank you—for everything."

"Not a problem, not a problem at all," Monty replied warmly. "Help yourself to anything you need, and if that anything includes answers from me, I'm just down the hall."

Grillby nodded in understanding before moving to settle in, murmuring his good nights.

♤♤♤

Between the tea leaves, the granola, and a good, safe night's sleep, come morning, he felt reborn. Certainly his flames were a brighter orange-gold, more active. The alarm clock (not set the night before) showed it was just shy of seven in the morning—definitely time to get up for the day.

He rolled out of bed and stretched widely before undressing and redressing in his clothes, making it a point to dust off the travel and wear from them in an effort to make himself look presentable. That done, he picked up the now empty dishes from last night and opened the door.

The house was incredibly still, quiet. Light filtered through the windows, casting warm patches on the floor as he descended the staircase and headed for the kitchen.

Or at least, he thought he was headed for the kitchen. He realized that he'd managed to make a wrong turn when he came out not in the kitchen, but in a massive glass-walled conservatory. The air was warm, humid but neither uncomfortable nor dangerous for him, and it seemed to have a heartbeat—and for good reason, he quickly discovered. The whole place was filled with serpents and reptiles and amphibians of all kinds. Some were contained in glass tanks or metal cages; others, up to and including a crocodile that rumbled at Grillby as he wandered deeper into the conservatory, seemed to be free range.

"Oh my God," he murmured, turning in slow circles as he walked, trying to take it all in. A workstation at the far end of the conservatory was piled high with books and notebooks and all manner of scientific tools. Was this his work or his hobby? What exactly did he _do_ with all this knowledge, all these tools, all these _creatures_?

"I see you've found the Reptile Room."

Grillby whipped around, for a moment his memories of the war overwhelming him. No—not an ambush, just Monty, smiling and already dressed for the day and carrying a steaming mug of coffee in one hand.

Somehow the name didn't surprise him at all. "I didn't mean to poke about," he apologized. "I was trying to get to the kitchen—"

"That happens more often than you'd think—no harm done," Monty reassured him before taking a sip of coffee. "What do you think of it, hmm?"

"It's... wow," Grillby managed. "I've never seen anything like it."

"I've spent nearly a lifetime curating it," Monty said, a note of pride coloring his voice.

"Ahh... please forgive my ignorance," Grillby began slowly, "but... what is it for? Work, or...?"

"It's my work, my play, my _passion_ ," Monty replied sincerely. "Herpetology is truly the most under-appreciated field of study."

"What are you studying?" the elemental asked.

"At the moment?" Monty set his coffee cup on an end table, freeing his hands to gesture at his notes. "It's about about using venom from snakes and lizards as more effective blood thinners in cardiovascular health."

"That sounds really interesting," Grillby replied, meaning every word of it.

The compliment made a broad smile stretch across Monty's face. "Thank you—now, on the note of snakes and lizards, if you don't mind, I could use some help getting the heat lamps on?"

Grillby nodded his agreement as he set the empty dishes he'd been holding on an empty corner of the desktop before moving to one side of the Reptile Room, carefully examining each lamp and clicking it on. Some of the specimens scurried and slithered into the light right away, while others seemed more ambivalent.

About halfway through, Grillby flipped one switch, but the lamp didn't turn on. Brow furrowing, he clicked it off, and then back on again—the same results. "This one isn't working," he announced, a hand on the shade as he turned to Monty.

"Probably a burnt bulb," Monty said, joining him. He bent to unplug the lamp and unscrewed the bad light bulb. "I'll just find a replacement for this and be right back."

Knowing the whats and the whys and the _purpose_ of this room put Grillby at ease, but it didn't change the awkwardness of standing and doing nothing. After a moment, he allowed the flames of his hands to warm and brighten before holding them out above the cage. "This'll have to do for now, yeah?" he asked the (so far, unseen) creature within.

After a moment, the creature scurried out from its hidden nest among the plants. It was some kind of lizard, almost the length of his arm. Its green-brown skin was excellent camouflage against the soil and leaves, and its black eyes seemed to consider him harshly for a moment before scurrying to rest under his hands.

_I'll be damned._ Grillby flexed his fingers, watching as the lizard sunned itself. Despite the lack of excitement in it, it was fascinating to watch, to the point that he almost didn't hear Monty's return. "I see you've made friends with the tuataras," he noted.

Grillby glanced down and was taken by surprise when he realized that a second lizard had joined the first, its apparent mate. "I guess I have," he replied, watching as Monty replaced the lamp and plugged it back in. "Sorry if I overstepped—"

"No need to apologize," Monty replied, waving the words aside. "I appreciate the thoughtfulness." He paused, looking Grillby over. "Forgive me if _I'm_ overstepping any boundaries here, but what would you say if I offered you some work?"

Grillby's Soul leapt into his throat— _work_? It was damn near too good to be true! "What kind of work?" he managed to ask, his voice just level enough that he didn't sound desperate.

"You see the nature of my research," Monty replied, indicating his desk and the conservatory as a whole in turn. "You see the kind of creatures I work with—not to mention they seem to take a shine to you. Have you ever considered being a research assistant?"

"I'm not much for the sciences," Grillby murmured, looking down and away.

"I know it's easy for me to say, but I promise you, it's not hard to pick up," Monty encouraged. "It might not pay a lot at first, but I promise you it does pay."

Grillby considered the alternative—trudging back into town, or down another part of Lousy Lane in the hopes of finding work _there_. And what hope did he have on that end? The lumber mill? The horseradish processors? And what of a place to lay his head at night? Admittedly, the more he thought about this place—here and now, just beyond the conservatory doors—the more he realized he could come to think of it as home.

When he looked up to meet Monty's gaze, it was with a smile. "Thank you for the offer."

"You accept?" Monty asked, his voice hopeful.

"Please—teach me everything you know."

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the April Challenge of Round 8 of the Hurt / Comfort Bingo on Dreamwidth  
> I ship this so hard


End file.
